Christmas Shell
by claraowl
Summary: It started with a Christmas gift, hidden yet obvious; it continued with a busy train ride, conversing with an old friend; it finished on a snowy balcony, the hidden made obvious. Moriharu fluff oneshot, a Christmas present to my readers. Mori Christmas to all, and a Hunny New Year.


**Hello, my loyal readers (if you exist, that is – if you're nonexistent, please ignore this after forgiving my narcissism)! I warn you now: this fic is going to be extremely fluffy. Fluffity fluff fluff will be all over the place. I'll still use my regular writing style as much as I possibly can, though, so never fear. I apologize for all unintentional OoCness. Please read on while keeping in mind that I own nothing except the fluff level.**

"Haru-chan! Haru-chan!" Hunny beamed, waving madly at her from Mori's shoulders at the end of club. "Wait a minute!"

"Yes?" Haruhi inquired, craning her neck slightly to make eye contact with her two sempais.

Mori held out a small package tied with a dark blue ribbon. "Happy Christmas," he murmured.

"We really liked your cakes, Haru-chan!" Hunny chimed in as she began carefully untying the ribbon.

"I'm glad to hear that," Haruhi smiled, after glancing up into Mori's eyes and receiving another affirmative answer. "Oh," she breathed, having removed the bunny-patterned wrapping paper, "it's beautiful."

If either third-year was surprised by this rather uncharacteristic reaction, they did not show it. Instead, as Haruhi examined the necklace, Hunny piped up, "We made it for you, Haru-chan! Takashi found the shell and I found the chain!"

Haruhi ran her fingers over the ridges of the shell, two halves of a clam sealed together. "Thank you," she whispered, fastening it around her neck and tucking it inside of her shirt for safety, where it rested against her sakura blossom necklace.

"You're welcome!" Hunny beamed, catapulting off of Mori's shoulders to give a startled Haruhi a hug. She cracked a smile, nearly laughing at his antics. Hunny beamed in response and released her, dashing off to locate any leftover cake. Mori gazed down at her inquisitively, wanting to know for certain.

Again, she met his eyes. "Thank you," she repeated, smiling as her fingers found the seashell as they usually did her sakura blossom. "Happy Christmas."

He smiled in return, and they parted ways for the day. She walked to the train station, pleased to find herself there before the train arrived, for once. She slipped into her usual car when the train arrived, and settled into her usual seat. A smile quirked her lips as she loosened her tie slightly and her fingers brushed against the new chain. A sakura blossom and a seashell… part of her wondered if she should put them on the same chain for convenience's sake, but further inspection proved that both pendants were attached directly to a single loop of chain. This notion banished, she glanced around the train compartment and broke into a grin.

"Hey, waterfall!" Haruhi called, beaming and moving her bag off of the seat next to her. "Over here!"

Makimi, hearing her friend's voice, whirled around. Spotting the sakura blossom, she waved frantically – nearly taking off some poor stranger's head in the process – and made her way take the seat Haruhi had saved for her. The two of them had recently discovered that they took the same train home on the days when Makimi had her botanical club meetings. This had led to the two of them sitting together on the train every Wednesday afternoon. Makimi giggled, plopping into the seat next to her friend of many years. "Hiya, Sakura-Cheeks!"

"Greetings, O ye of the plant world," Haruhi smiled in reply, plucking a stray leaf out of her friend's hair. "How was thine Christmas party? Did ye decorate the spider plants?"

"It was fabulous, and we tried," Makimi snickered. "They rebelled."

"I informed you thusly," Haruhi smirked.

"You _so_ informed me thusly," Makimi sighed. "I really should have listened."

"You'd think that you'd know better by now, wouldn't you?" the spring day giggled, her fingers tangling in her necklace chains.

"Yeah – what're these?" the waterfall inquired, distracted, reaching for Haruhi's necklaces. "Your name-charm necklace and… a seashell?"

"Yup," Haruhi nodded, cheeks coloring slightly. "It was a gift."

"Ooh, from Sakaki-man?" the botanist inquired eagerly.

"Yes, from him and Hunny-sempai," the host confirmed, "but how did you know?"

"You're earning your nickname, Sakura-Cheeks," came the cheeky reply with a poke to the host's cheek. "Did they say why?"

"It was just a Christmas present," she shrugged, turning her head and lipping her friend's finger. "They said that they liked my cakes."

Makimi giggled again, withdrawing her finger. "You poor kid." She glanced around, hearing the murmurs of the other train passengers. "Y'know, I think that the humans think that we're together again."

"Sometimes I get sick of that," Haruhi sighed, tucking her sakura blossom back inside her shirt.

"Eh, ignore them," Makimi shrugged, taking the seashell pendant into her hands and holding it up to her eye for further inspection. "This is really well-made. Somebody welded them together with metal or something."

"Really?" Haruhi inquired, tilting her head to observe the meeting point of the shell halves. "I didn't notice."

"What did you do, just say 'thank you' and put it on?" Makimi scoffed.

"Yes," Haruhi replied honestly.

"You…" the other girl sighed, furrowing her brow slightly as she ran her fingernail along the metal. There were two halves to it, with a hinge at the top of the shell, almost like a locket. She slid her fingernail into the crevice, trying and failing to pry it open. Upon closer examination, there proved to be a minute hole. "Hey, Haruhi, do you have a key for –?"

"Approaching Hitochigai Station," a voice announced over the loudspeaker, interrupting her question and startling her into dropping the necklace pendant.

Haruhi smiled and stood, gathering her bag. She then offered her hand to Makimi, host-style. Makimi laughed, her question forgotten, and accepted it. The other passengers giggled at the supposed couple's flirtations; they were like this every Wednesday afternoon. There were several bets circulating among the passengers about whether the boy would kiss the girl or the girl would kiss the boy. This fact was, unfortunately, unknown to the two young girls; had they known, they might have asked Hoshi for some play-acting lessons. As it was, Haruhi merely helped her friend to her feet and led her out of the train. The two walked together for some time, and then parted ways.

"Happy Christmas, Makimi," Haruhi grinned. "I'll see you later!"

"Yes, Mori Christmas, Haruhi," Makimi smirked, beaming when Haruhi's cheeks flushed. "And a Hunny New Year!" Guffawing, she saluted her friend, and skedaddled.

Haruhi shook her head and made her way home, absently rubbing the shell of her new necklace.

Haruhi bit her lip, sweeping her shoulder-blade length hair out of the way so that she could fasten her seashell necklace. Stepping away from the mirror in her apartment, Haruhi smiled. Had it been seven years already? Her fingers rested lightly on the shell, tracing its grooves as she had many times before, and then shifted to her sakura blossom necklace. Her entire group still wore their name-charm necklaces; they probably would until the days they died. She was going to see them in a few days, for their monthly gathering and annual Christmas party. The previous host club members had wished to tag along as they usually did, but the girls had put their metaphorical feet down – in Kasumi's case, she had literally put her foot down, stomping several times to make her point – this was a special gathering. Instead, the previous host club had gathered about a week ago to celebrate.

It had been a busy few weeks for Haruhi, with cases left and right. She'd been looking forward to this evening since the party last week, when her boyfriend had asked her to join him for dinner the next time she had a night off of work. She had readily agreed; it had been some time since they'd been able to spend an evening together. Her doorbell rang; she grinned, her cheeks flushing lightly as she fetched her coat. "Coming!"

Her door opened to reveal Mori, her friend of seven years and boyfriend of – was it six years, now? "Happy Christmas, Haruhi," he smiled, snow dusting his shoulders.

"Mori Christmas, Takashi," she beamed, stepping out to join him and locking the door behind her.

"Makimi's going to be mad that you're stealing her lines again," Mori intoned, taking her hand and leading her to his car as she laughed at his words. His free hand slipped almost imperceptibly into his coat pocket, lingered for a moment, and then reappeared. A slight smile graced his lips as he opened the door for her; the two of them slid into the back seat and Mori gave a signal to the driver. The driver nodded, and the car began to move.

"So," Haruhi began, and then paused.

"A needle pulling thread," Mori supplied, earning himself a grin from Haruhi.

"Where are we going?" Haruhi inquired, tangling their fingers together. "You've been avoiding the question."

"The Six Swans," Mori informed her. "It really should be seven swans or six geese, but they just won't listen to my letters."

"Letters, plural?"

"Of course." He lifted her fingers to his lips.

"Maybe they mean six swans for luck," she suggested, tugging his fingers to her lips, just to keep things equal.

"Perhaps," Mori conceded; that was the reason he had picked that restaurant for their first public date, after all. He'd wanted luck then, and wished it now.

Haruhi smirked, having triumphed in their semi-debate. The driver slowed to a stop and announced, "We are here."

Mori helped Haruhi out of the car, as was expected of a gentleman, and placed an arm gently around her waist. The maitre'd was nearly leaping out of the door to greet them; the Morinozuka name assured that. Mori nodded to confirm the seating plans, which understandably confused the poor headwaiter – after all, who in their right mind would want to sit on the balcony when it was snowing? Nevertheless, he led the couple to their seats and took their orders. The two began to chat, growing more animated as the snow began to fall more heavily.

About halfway through their appetizer – crab Rangoon – Mori inquired about her seashell necklace. Haruhi smiled and assured him that she wore it next to her sakura blossom. Mori, worries assuaged, offered her plum sauce. She accepted, dipping a piece of her appetizer into it and offering it to him. He allowed her to feed him, quietly relishing the lack of people around them. The two preferred to sit on the balcony in the winter for the simple reason of privacy – no one else was crazy enough to put up with the snow.

When their dinners came – shrimp yakisoba and chicken yakitori – talk moved to their future, a subject which they had breached many a time previously. "I still think that it would be more practical for us to live together," Mori commented towards the end of their main course.

"I agree that it would be more practical," Haruhi replied, "but I still think that I should pay rent."

"Haruhi, I own a home," he gently reminded her. "It would be ridiculous and, frankly, ungentlemanly of me to charge you rent."

"Wouldn't it also be against the gentleman's code to live under the same roof as a woman with whom you are involved romantically but to whom you are not bound by marriage?" Haruhi countered.

This was the point at which Mori always balked, as it was true; to do so would be to break many of his codes to pieces. "Fine, I concede for now," he murmured, picking up a piece of shrimp in his chopsticks. "Open."

Haruhi obeyed, opening her mouth; she then bit down, not allowing him to remove his chopsticks. A smile quirked her lips, daring him.

Mori gave a soft laugh, simply reaching across the table and taking her chopsticks. He relinquished his to her without further protest. Haruhi smiled, removing his chopsticks from her mouth and lowering them to the last few bites of her food.

The waitress, with some amusement at their actions, appeared at their table to inquire about dessert. The two ordered a slice chocolate cake with strawberries on top, to split. It arrived, and the two unknowingly entertained the guests inside the restaurant by taking turns with strawberry bites. The two laughed together, passing the small slice back and forth until the plate was empty. Mori nervously swallowed his last bite, attempting to calm his nerves. Haruhi, of course, did not notice this small movement; she had not grown much more observant with age.

"Haruhi," Mori began, "are you wearing your seashell necklace?"

"Of course I am," she smiled. "I told you before that I wear it with my name-charm necklace."

"Would you mind pulling it outside of your coat?" he inquired, slipping a hand nervously into his pocket. Haruhi did so; he continued, "You were saying before that our living together in the relationship we have now would shatter my gentlemanly codes to pieces."

"Which is true," Haruhi interjected.

"It is," he nodded. "We have also known each other for seven years, and dated for six, counting the time during which only Mitsukuni knew."

Haruhi nodded, curious as to what this had to do with her necklace. "You gave me this necklace the first Christmas we were dating, before we went public."

Mori nodded. "I realize that it may be unwise to do this around Christmastime, if this goes awry; however, I feel that it would be more memorable this way."

"Takashi, what are you doing?" Haruhi inquired. "You're not yourself at all – you don't usually babble."

"Forgive me," he replied. "I'll get to the point. Did you know that your shell opens?"

Haruhi shook her head. "I knew that it was sealed with metal, but I never knew that it opened."

Mori withdrew his hand from his pocket, a small bag in his fingers. He motioned for her to open it; she did so, revealing a minute key. A question rose in her eyes; in answer, he took the key from her hand and lifted the shell in his other hand, lifting it to her eyes.

"A keyhole," she stated, displaying a wonderful grasp on the obvious.

Mori laughed slightly. "Yes, a keyhole, and this is the key." He slid the key into the hole in the shell's metal seal and twisted; the two halves of the shell popped open on the well-disguised hinge, dropping their treasure into Mori's palm.

Haruhi's eyes grew huge; her cheeks flushed. "Is that…?"

Mori nodded, serious and mute.

"How long has that been in there?" she inquired, agape.

"Since I gave you the necklace," he murmured, his cheeks lightly colored as his breath fogged the air.

"But that was years ago," she protested weakly. "You hadn't even known me that long."

"You heard me," he replied quietly, moving his free hand to her cheek. "You heard me when no one else did, and you actually listened."

"It still seems too soon," Haruhi informed him, as blunt as ever. "How could you be so sure? What if things hadn't worked out this well?"

"Then I would have kept the key and hoped fervently that you never let Kasumi near it after she'd consumed pretzels," Mori replied with a slight smile.

"How were you so sure, though?" she whispered. "I took my sweet time choosing, you know. It took me over a year to get the rest of them out of my dreams, and sometimes they still come back. How could you take such an expensive, painful risk?"

"I can be optimistic about some things, can't I?" he queried in return.

"You're pessimistic about a cavity, but you're optimistic about something like this?" she inquired, half-laughing.

Mori nodded seriously. "You haven't given me an answer."

"You didn't ask a question," she reminded him.

"One would think that the question was obvious," he replied.

"You still haven't told me how you could be so certain, nor what possessed you to take such a risk."

"If I tell you and then ask, will you answer?"

"Naturally."

He nodded, and stood. "The reason is quite simple: I knew, even so long ago, that I'd never find anyone else whom I could love so much, and be loved so much in return." He walked over to stand beside her chair, and assumed the appropriate position for such occasions.

"Your question?" Haruhi prompted, allowing him to take her hands.

"It's obvious what my question is, Haruhi."

"Regardless, I'd like to be asked."

Mori smiled, and asked in the way he did most things: silently. He took the seashell's treasure and touched it to the nail of her left ring finger while he moved the shell so that she could see the words painted inside.

_All pearls start out as a small irritation to the clam. The clam then insulates the irritation until it is smooth, forming what we know as a pearl. We started out much the same way. I found myself focusing far too much on the little things you did, and grew irritated when I could not figure out why. I began insulating myself from you – I tried to, at least. You worked through my insulation and became, inextricably, a part of my life. We are now – and I hope we will always be – together. That, I think, is the only way that I can now survive. I will keep my question simple:_

_ Haruhi Fujioka, will you marry me?_

Haruhi met Mori's eyes, and answered just as silently as he had asked: She slid her left hand forward, allowing him to guide the ring onto her finger, and leaned toward him, meeting his lips in a shower of metaphorical sparks.

_Yes._

The happy couple was, of course, completely oblivious to the clapping of their audience, who had all elected to stay inside the warm, snow-free restaurant. Mori drew away first, and got to his feet. Haruhi, grinning, brushed the snow from his knees before allowing herself to be pulled to her feet and into her fiancé's warm embrace. (The maitre'd and the waitress, for their parts, were extremely happy, mainly due to the large tips that happy people had a tendency to leave.)

"Happy Christmas, Haruhi," Mori murmured, slipping the key into her front pocket for safekeeping.

"Mori Christmas, Takashi," Haruhi returned, temporarily closing her seashell locket. She would open it later that evening, after their joint celebration, just to make sure that this was all real.

Happily for the two of them, it was.

***End***

**I warned you! I warned that it would be extremely fluffy! Please don't bury me alive -! **

…

…

…

***Ahem.***

**Anyway, this is my Christmas present to all of you. I hope that you liked it!**

**Mori Christmas and a Hunny New Year to you all!**


End file.
